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LOST LETTERS FROM 
LESBOS 



"All that Earth 
Produced to Earth returns; Whatever derives 
Erom an Ethereal origin its birth 
Again is wafted to the starry pole 
For naught that once existed e'er can die." 

— Euripides. 



LOST LETTERS FROM 
LESBOS 



BY * 

lucy Mcdowell milburn 




CHICAGO 

R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS CO. 

MCMII 



-> ' > 






Copyright, 1902 
By LUCY MCDOWELL MILBURN 

All Rights of Dramatization 
Reserved 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

FEB 25 1903 

CLASS CXoCXc. No. 
COPY B. 



tf 



1« 



TO 

MRS. MILWARD ADAMS 

MAY THESE FEW THOUGHTS GLEANED FROM 

THE PAGES OF THE PAST AND THE VISIONS 

OF THE FUTURE BE TO YOU A HAPPY 

REMINDER OF THE HOURS WE 

HAVE SPENT WITH SAPPHO 

AND HER PUPILS 

L. McD. M. 



Preface 



The following pages belong not to the 
is, nor the was, but purely to the might 
have been. 

All maidens dream of love. Nearly 
all maidens have lovers. Should a 
maiden and her lover be separated, even 
for a brief space, they write each to the 
other. Poets and Princes are no excep- 
tion to this rule: nor do the ages bygone 
reveal anything in the way of loverhak- 
ing very different from that now in 
vogue. "Love is love and hearts are 
hearts the wide world over" sang Brown- 
ing, in referring to Euripides' ability to 
charm the world to-day as in days of 
old. 

Feeling sure that this is true, the author 



Preface 

of Lost Letters hopes that they will re- 
flect enough of love's true color to make 
life brighter for some lovers, old and 
young. 

Lucy McDowell Milburn. 
Chicago, 111., 1902. 



Introduction 



During our stay in Cairo in the win- 
ter of 1900, we made an excursion to 
Naukratis, 1 which was most interesting 
and instructive. I for one almost over- 
came my prejudice to Pharaoh Hopras, 2 
when I saw how thoroughly he had ap- 
preciated Greek culture, and I shared to 
a degree the enthusiasm of the German 
Egyptologists who are finding so much 
that is precious in this Greco-Egyptian 
town. I felt like taking a grubbing- 
axe and spade in my own hands, so 
eager was I to unearth something in the 
way of a Greek relic from Egyptian soil. 
Early in the spring we joined some 
Orientalists for a short tour through 
Phoenicia, and expected to go as far as 
Damascus. But the night we should 
have spent in that city we passed in our 
tents near a place of no name, through 
13 



Introduction 



what seemed to me unpardonable stu- 
pidity regarding distances, on the part 
of our conductor. I fretted so at the 
loss of time that I did not sleep, and 
dressing very early, I stepped out of the 
tent to see the morning waken on the 
plains that had been trodden by many 
men of yore whose names I love. I 
dared not even go as far as the spring, 
near which the guards were sleeping, 
for near at hand were three strange men 
coming towards our camp, who seemed 
to be in a dispute regarding something 
which they carried. I shouted to arouse 
the guide, and Professor Hart, never a 
sound sleeper, put his head out of the 
next tent on hearing that some Arabs 
were at hand. He soon joined us and 
before many minutes the whole par;y 
were at the spring curious to see what 
brought these wandering merchants our 
way. Something to sell, we doubted not. 
One of them carried a metal case of most 
curious workmanship. What was it? 
H 



Introduction 



Where from? How old? What did it 
contain, for it was now empty. Assyrian, 
Egyptian, Greek, Chinese, or Indian? 
The learned men of our party seemed 
now no wiser than I — they disagreed. 
The Arabs would not or could not tell. 
Bought, dug, or stolen, all alike to them, 
they wished to sell it, not to talk about 
it. It was perhaps very valuable, but it 
was heavy and our hands were full. I 
knew it w n .s foolish to desire this old 
case, but I felt irresistibly drawn towards 
it. In fancy I was carried back to the 
days when Europa gathered flowers in 
Phoenician fields and placed them in that 
casket of marvellous beauty which had 
once belonged to Libya. 3 I had always 
desired that ; was it more foolish to wish 
for this? It was decided by wiser heads 
than mine that the men asked too much 
for it, considering that it was empty. 
Our scholars thought its value slight 
when we could not ascertain where it 
was found, and breakfast was now of 
15 



Introduction 



more interest than the merchants to all 
but me; I was not satisfied. I could 
not understand one word they said, but I 
made signs and showed some gold pieces, 
and begged the interpreter to question 
them further. He obtained the infor- 
mation that the case had contained abso- 
lutely nothing but some dirty paper. 
At this I was excited. Dirty paper! 
What might not be found on paper old 
enough and dirty enough. I showed 
three gold pieces. The Arabs drew 
nearer. They began to agree, and soon 
I was given to understand that the dirty 
paper would be exchanged for the gold 
pieces, provided I swore never to tell 
where I got it, not even to let the men 
of our party know I had it. These 
crafty tradesmen dreaded the archaeolo- 
gist. They were superstitious, and also 
they knew that to eyes wiser than theirs 
the writings on the paper might betray 
the home of the casket, and convict them 
of stealing. Being duly sworn, and giv- 

16 



Introduction 



ing the gold into their hands, I received 
a roll which the spokesman had carried 
beneath his cloak. For some days I had 
no opportunity to inspect my purchase. 
Although I enjoyed my own curiosity and 
the mystery, I had many misgivings as 
to whether I had been wise to dispose of 
my gold so easily. There was the pos- 
sibility that I had nothing more valu- 
able than a bundle of nineteenth-century 
newspapers thrown away by European 
travellers. Not until we reached Athens 
had I time to examine my parcel. There 
I had the valuable assistance of a pro- 
fessor of philology in the university, and 
also of Mr. L., a most learned Greek 
scholar from America. The dirty news- 
paper removed, revealed several small 
rolls of antique Egyptian papyrus. The 
quality and stamp showed that no mean 
or ordinary person could have owned it. 
The writing on it was of the best ^Eolian 
Greek. The age we could not at first 
determine, but as fragment after frag- 
17 



Introduction 



ment was deciphered, we became con- 
vinced that no hand but Sappho's could 
have penned these lines. Before begin- 
ning the translation of the letters, I went 
for a two weeks' trip to Lesbos. Had 
I stayed there long enough I might have 
been writing poetry now instead of 
stumbling over prose. Ionic soil pro- 
duces no Homers now, nor ^Eolian air 
any Sapphos, though the breezes that 
blow over lovely Lesbos are freighted 
with song as in Sappho's day, and the 
meadows are as verdant, the vines and 
blossoms are as beautiful as when Virgil 
hymned his lay. 

Oh days in Lesbos! June days, midst 
fragrance and refreshment of the Now, 
blended with fancies and recollections of 
the Then. Oh blessed isle where lov- 
ing Sappho breathed and sung. My 
days there were as a dream that passed 
all too quickly into the night. I had 
trod the streets of Mytilene, wandered 
in the myrtle groves, and sat upon the 
18 



Introduction 



Lesbian rocks and sand. Perhaps in 
the very place where Sappho used to 
watch for her brother's boat. 

I returned to Athens with a new love 
for my treasure. I felt the task of 
translating easier, and though my work 
is far from being that of a scholar, and 
any English version must fall short of 
the beauty of the original text, I desire 
to share the fruit of my labors with all 
those who love Sappho for her best self. 



19 



Letter I 

Had my father lived, my life would have 
been different. His heart was as noble as 
his birth, and his intellect as large as his 
heart. My mother is of the most yielding 
nature, and was entirely ruled by my step- 
father. He, a merchant, chose a husband 
for me as he would have selected a piece of 
pottery. I was too young to object, and 
had not the slightest conception of what I 
was plunging into. For five years my life 
was scarcely bearable, shut up in that little 
inland town, hearing only the chatter of 
silly women, or my husband's friends talk- 
ing about the buying and selling price of 
fabrics and metals, while my soul longed for 
music and eloquence. My breathing spaces 
were my visits to Erinna ; 4 Rhodes was not 
Lesbos, but it was a Greek island, and I 
could behold the dear old sea. When 
Cleis, 5 I called her for my mother, was two 
years old, I found myself a widow, with 
means to go where I would. My stepfather 

21 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

having passed to the Shades, I returned to 
my mother's house, and here among the 
vines and the nightingales, I sing and write 
and love. Two are dependent on me, one 
on account of her tender age, the other be- 
cause of declining years. So though my 
heart is overflowing with desire to see you 
once more, to be with you, now that it is 
not wrong to wish it, I beg of you not to 
ask me to do that which would be selfish and 
I should regret. You may come to me, I 
cannot yet go to you. 



Letter II 



I wish I might know your father. I am 
sure he is a grand man. I owe him a great 
deal of gratitude for having his children 
taught Greek. 6 Your mother I love with- 
out knowing aught else of her save that she 
gave birth to such a son. I believe if a 
true woman loves a man she must love and 
honor his mother. I do not wonder that 
your royal parents disapprove of me. Why 
should they not? I am in their eyes a bar- 
barian, 7 and worse than that, I have stolen 
something that was once wholly theirs. Do 
not blame them. Love me still, but speak 
not to them of your love. 



23 



Letter III 



No, I shall not try to learn your language 
since you know mine. I do not believe 
your words would be as sweet in another 
tongue. If ever I should have courage to 
learn another set of sounds it must be be- 
cause they have more music in them than 
the Greek words, and that may be when 
men have grown much wiser and better 
than they are now. But do tell me more 
about the new language you are learning, 
and what you will find in it to repay you. 
I know so little about those ancient people 
of the East. Their writers of the present 
day, if one can judge by hearsay, are very 
tiresome; Alcaeus 8 met one called Jeremiah, 9 
whom he imitates in fun, likening his words 
to the sighing of the breeze after a storm. 
He, I believe, is always anticipating some 
ill, as if there were not sorrows enough 
without wailing beforehand what may come 
to pass 



24 



Letter IV 



.... I do not expect to touch the sky 
with my arms, 10 even though I walked to 
the end of the earth. But I do expect to 
reach above the sky with my songs. I feel 
that they are heard beyond the clouds ; for 
leaving the golden throne of Zeus, the 
Graces and the beautiful-haired Muses 11 
come hither and gather in^heir arms all that 
is best in our thoughts and in our hearts, 
and carry the offering to their home above. 

The sweet blush rose and flowers of tender grace 
I will this eve upon my bosom place, 
And when their fragrance wafts up to my face 
I'll think of Cleis. 

The little word of letters four you sent, 
I'll wear within my heart and feel content, 
As surely as it was sincerely meant 
It will not wither. 



25 



Letter V 



Though Mother Earth is a very large 
part of us, I hold that as she had a spouse, 12 
he, too, must be our parent, and if we wish 
to know more of this heavenly one, we must 
live worthy of such an heritage. I would 
not belittle Mother Earth. I love her and 
all her robes, but I long to know more of 
that place whence the light proceeds. . . . 
Here is a little song I wrote when a child 
that our slaves sing every morning. 

Hail wondrous light, 
Goddess ever bright ! 
'Tis she! 'tis she! 
Breaks the bonds of night. 

See on the lawn 
Rosy-fingered dawn. 
Oh, glee ! oh, glee ! 
Darkness all has gone. 

Let praises ring, 
Beauty ever sing, 
For me, for me, 
Daylight joy doth bring. 
26 



Letter VI 



I do not hesitate one moment to answer 
which of all the gods I deem most blessed 
— Zeus' s dearest daughter, Aphrodite, the 
weaver of many spells. She is the most 
blessed of all who dwell on Olympus, and 
most worthy to be worshipped. If we wor- 
ship not Love, we are without the better 
part of life. I know I am much censured 
for teaching the Lesbian maidens to write 
so many hymns to the Goddess of Love. 
I should, I am told, have them sing only 
to Apollo and Artemis! Who lives that 
does not worship the sun and moon and all 
that light brings to us? We who emulate 
the Muses must all ask aid of Apollo. 
He is our chief teacher. 13 Then all young 
maidens naturally worship his sister, fair 
Artemis; but Aphrodite they fear. They 
have erroneous ideas of her, and talk of 
her in secret, when they should praise 
her and love her and seek her aid openly. 
I think we err when we represent Love as 
27 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

blind; most mortals are blind to the true 
idea of love, but Love himself is Argus- 
eyed, 14 and shines with the brightness and 
beauty of the sun. It seems to me that 
Hesiod is quite right in counting Love the 
first of deities, but even he does not make 
Love old enough. He says, "First Chaos, 
then Love." 15 Ah, only seeming chaos! 
Divine Love must have been or naught else 
could be. What brought order out of 
chaos? A child of Chaos. Nay, that which 
held sway before Chaos — Love, which has 
no beginning, no end. 



28 



Letter VII 



I envy the Priestesses of Dodona, 16 who, 
as you may know, are from Egypt, their 
marvellous power of interpreting the voice 
of the breeze as it comes through the 
leaves. Is it a wisdom possessed by many 
of your countrywomen, or only by a sacred 
few? I love to lie all day on the ground 
beneath the apple-trees and listen to the 
breeze as it plays on the leaves. I verily 
believe each leaf has a note of its own, what- 
ever the breeze may be, though the music 
differs much when the north or west wind 
blows from the mild rustling of the south 
wind. The strains are also very different 
in cloudy or sunny weather. You may say 
the tune is affected by my own feelings. 
Yes, no doubt that is a part of the differ- 
ence, but the leaves also feel; they murmur, 
they sigh, they moan, and they cry — they 
laugh and they titter, they giggle and they 
whisper, but they do it all to a song of their 
own, which I vainly try to imitate on my lyre. 
29 



Letter VIII 



The myrtle is now in full blossom, and it 
is said that the Queen of Love frequents 
the groves when the myrtle blooms, so I sit 
by the hour under the pink fringe and pray 
to her to grant me favor. So many hymns 
have I sung to her that should I write them 
down it would take one of your great palaces 
to hold them. I shall not write them, but 
send them floating off to the great white 
clouds behind which the goddess has her 
throne. 18 I wish that you might hide be- 
hind the cypress some morning and hear a 
song I have just finished. The girls sing it 
in three parts. I send a copy of the words. 

Myrtle blooms are hanging low, 

Sing heigho, heigho ! 

Hours and Graces, Muses all, 

From the vaulted blue we call, 

Send your aid, we pray, 

For the Queen of Love to-day 

We a wreath would twine, 

Which, when she doth seek her shrine 

'Midst the fringes pink, 

3o 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

Every blossom that we link 
Shall to her a message bear 
And adorn her hair. 

Zephyrs that o'er Cyprus blow, 

Sing heigho, heigho ! 

Bring with you the foam-born maid, 

As of old we need her aid, 

Lest our suit shall fail; 

Stoutest hearts do often quail 

Ere they feel that love 

Known by brightest ones above, 

Where it has its home 

Yet on earth awhile dost roam, 

Let me all its blessings prove 

In our myrtle grove. 



3i 



Letter IX 



I would not have the profoundest depths 
of my being stirred. It is the feeling there 
are unfathomed deeps to my heart and in- 
comprehensible circles to my soul that makes 
me sure that I shall live hereafter. Eter- 
nity alone can answer the questions that arise 
within my being. When I am restless, and 
my spirit roves in quest of something at 
illimitable heights, I realize that I might if 
I would quit this nook of Jove's domain, 
but fear to trust my untutored wings, so I 
come back again and again to earth that I 
may gain strength to rise. The falls from 
visionary heights are dizzy times; my brain 
reels with the fullness of an enlarged 
vision. 

My spirit, momentarily freed, sees that 
the flesh is a stubborn glebe, furrowed only 
in part, and needing gentle dews which 
the rapt spirit draws from heaven. The 
higher the flight the harder the fall, and for 
a time the bruised flesh complains, but that 
32 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

only tends to make me soar once more and 

again be resigned to pain 

.... Oh those tiresome Hours 19 who 
each morning open the gates of heaven! I 
wish sometimes that the gates would stay 
closed all day that I might not know how 
long the time is my brother tarries. Was 
ever brother dearer than Charaxus. 20 

Shall I forget thee? 

Can it be done? 

These questions come to me — must come. 

Will heartbeat cease? 
Some time it must. 
Will breath decrease, 
And all else turn to dust? 

Then I'll forget thee. 

Nay, not then, 

For memory will be more clear, 

Yes, it will grow year by year, 

And we shall be so near, so near, 

When life on earth is over. 



33 



Letter X 



The Days have leaden feet, the Night lets 
her horses creep, and oh, it is such a weary, 
weary time while I wait for Charaxus's re- 
turn. The trade in wine does not keep him 
so long away, I know, so I begin to fear 
the report is true which says that he has 
found bright eyes and rosy cheeks in a 
maiden at Naukratis. I wrote some verses 
in a ridiculous strain about this fair Egyp- 
tian maid, Doricha, 21 beginning thus: 

You tell me she has rosy cheeks 

And teeth like unto pearl. 
Some mountains that have rosy peaks 

And whitest caps unfurl 
May yet contain a mass that reeks 

Which down their sides they hurl. 

My making merry over his choice does 
not cut short his stay on the other shore. 



34 



PART SECOND 



Letter XI 



Since thou wast here and thy dear feet 
did press the grass, the very dew sparkles 
brighter than was its wont in times agone. 
This bank of moss whereon I now am sit- 
ting is far velvetier than at this time last 
year, as if it did rejoice that once thou didst 
lie upon it. The Sea is dark and angry to- 
day. It brings me no message from thee; 
so I go not to the beach, but feast my recol- 
lection on the day when thou didst venture 
in thy frail bark to these vine-clad shores. 
O how dear each shrub, each vine, has be- 
come which thou didst admire. Thou saidst 
a poet should praise the beauty of this isle, 
that its loveliness should be a continual 
feast to the poet's soul. Ah that might be 
if I had eyes for these days, but I have 
none. My eyes are strained to see across 
the sea, my ears are deafened to the song 
of birds, I but listen to the waves and won- 
der if the tune they beat on yonder rocks 
they learned on Libya's shores. 
37 



Letter XII 



Last night fair Cynthia 22 came out of the 
sea clad in a pale saffron robe, and as she 
arose in the sky she dropped a veil of gold 
across the water so long that it reached to 
me. And while my eyes with wonder did 
behold this beauty my heart was filled with 
joy, for right across the veil of gold did I 
behold a sail, and soon my brother signaled, 
and I ran right into the sea, so glad was I 
to hasten to his bark. He picked me up all 
drenched with brine and held me to his 
heart. And when I clasped his hand I had 
no need to speak, I knew that he had been 
with thee. 



38 



Letter XIII 



Oh Phaon, Phaon, 23 only a woman's heart 
can flutter as does mine when I see the top- 
sail of the boat returning from Libya's 
shores. It is my brother's craft I say come 
safely from a voyage of peril, and I run to 
the shore to bid him welcome. But my 
heart is not fluttering in time to the sail, 
nor am I bounding like a young deer to 
meet Charaxus, save that I know I shall 
have a leaflet impressed by thy dear hand, 
some words of cheer engraved for me to be 
forever graven on my heart. I press the 
tender slips of papyrus to my breast as if 
they could quiet my heart, then I lift the 
seal. 

But before my eyes can read a word a 
mist comes over them, my burning haste 
has melted the dew of my soul; as the sun 
draws the vapor from the sea, so the sight 
of thy missive lifts the moisture to my eyes ; 
a few drops wet my cheeks, and thy 
Sappho's eyes are made more clear. Joy 
39 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

comes in warm floods over her brow, as she 
reads that she is still beloved and — then the 
earth is naught — there is no sea between 
us — for the space of a breath I live. 



40 



Letter XIV 



I repaired to the myrtle grove this morn- 
ing to be alone with your written words. 
When I opened the packet my heart was 
sore at seeing so many empty sheets, but as 
I read that you desired to hear from me at 
more length, I saw why you sent so goodly 
a roll of papyri. You do not wish my mes- 
sages written on perishable material, you 
wish them to last as long as you do, you 
say. It is a delight to use such beautiful 
papyrus, and I shall try to send you some 
verses that shall be worthy of the material 
on which they are penned. Here is one I 
sang last night. 

The rose that blooms never dies, 
Beauty is a law of good, 
All it weaves forever lives ; 
Why, then, does the rose decay? 
That it may come some other day 
And weave new garbs of beauty. 



4i 



Letter XV 



The leaves are all of a tremble this morn- 
ing, as if rejoiced to be bathed in light. 
Everything on earth seems quivering with 
delight from the flood of sunshine which 
pours down from the sky, and which is 
more than welcome after much gloom, for 
Apollo has been driving great herds of 
cattle for several days, so that his glorious 
car has been lost to sight; now not even a 
flock of sheep steals across the sun's bright 
face, 24 no, nor does a single Muse trail her 
garments over the blue vault. The sky is 
all clear, all blue, everywhere light abounds. 
Apollo is king, and my heart goes out to him 
in royal adoration, so that without an effort 
I have written two hymns of praise. One 
as the good shepherd and one as the king 
of glory, and the thought comes to me that 
he shines just as wondrously on those who 
do not adore him as on those that do, and 
he shines not only on you and me who can 
worship him, but he shines on the birds 
42 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

and the flowers and the leaves. The birds, 
of course, do unconsciously worship, for 
they pour out divine melodies when the sun 
shines on them; and the flowers brighten 
and shed their perfumes; even the tender 
leaves grow green, and that is the best that 
they can do ; but the human heart that does 
not respond to the sunbeam is duller than 
the leaves 



43 



Letter XVI 



My mother no longer opposes my teach- 
ing; she cannot herself see the reason for 
women learning aught else but housework 
and needlework, but since I am determined 
to write and play and sing, she takes pride 
that so many maidens come to learn the art 
of poetry from me. Finding that some ob- 
jected to playing because it injured the 
beauty of their finger tips, I have contrived 
for them a piece of ivory, so that it is a 
very good substitute for the fingers in strik- 
ing the strings of the lyre or cithara. 25 I 
have my school in our own beautiful garden 
now. This is a great joy to me, for I feel 
that I am helping my friends to a larger life. 
My brothers still object to my work; they 
are sensitive to what the city thinks, for it 
is said that I am unfitting the girls for wives, 
that I with my music have stolen all the 
maidens' hearts, and some say cruel things, 
that I desire my pupils to love me more 
than they love the goddesses. I wish them 
44 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

to love me, that through me they may learn 
to love the things that I love. If the men 
of our day misunderstand us, I have no fear 
but that in days to come the men who live 
hereafter shall praise us. 



45 



Letter XVII 



Erinna, of whom you have often heard 
me speak, has greater talent than any- 
maiden I know. But she persists in writ- 
ing grand poems to rival Homer. I tell 
her that one Homer is enough for all ages, 
and if she desires to live in the hearts and 
memory of all, she must not copy any one, 
but just be her best self. I fear her desire 
to shine now will keep her from her highest 
development. We should not seek the 
applause of men, only that of the Muses, 
if we would lead men. 



4 6 



Letter XVIII 



The most beautiful to look on of all 
maidens who frequent my school is Lesbia. 
A day not long ago Alcseus came to play 
for us on his new cithara, which has sixteen 
strings. He was giving us a battle-hymn, 
all full of Mars and gory heroes when his 
eyes fell on Lesbia for the first time. She 
had just come from behind the laurel drawn 
forth by Alcaeus's voice. Scarcely could 
he finish the martial hymn, so inspired was 
he by Lesbia's face, and ere the last notes 
had died upon the air, he improvised a song 
to her that was of rarest beauty. After 
Alcaeus had gone all of us tried to recall the 
song. While I could not quite reproduce 
it, I think I got the spirit of it, and some of 
the fire and passion. That you may judge 
what Lesbia' s beauty is to evoke such 
words from martial Alcseus, I send it as I 
remember it. 26 



47 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 
TO LESBIA 

Many a time the lance I've thrown, 
And stouter hearted yet have grown 
When in the thickest of the fight 

Sad was my plight. 
On which side to fling the shield, 
Or evermore what arms to wield 
To ward off such a blow that falls 

When Beauty calls. 
When beauty such as this I see, 
'Tis wisest far to turn and flee ; 
For what the weapon could I send 

Man to defend. 
The gods themselves would be hard hit 
If ere towards them her glance should flit j 
Then why strive I to save my heart 

From Beauty's dart? 

If the beauty of a mortal maid could in- 
spire man to notes like these, shall not the 
beauty of the immortals, when love and 
prayer have revealed them to us, inspire us 
to sing undying verses? Our first hymn 
each morning is to the Queen of Love, that 
as of old she did visit the Cyprian isle and 
show her perfect form to those who wor- 
shipped her, 27 she will come to Lesbos and 
tune our lyres to loftier strains than yet we 
have dreamed. 

48 



Letter XIX 



When I think how we and other nations 
have, in times not far gone by, sacrificed 
our young girls 28 upon the altar or con- 
demned them to serve in a temple at some 
remote region of the earth, to assuage the 
wrath of a goddess or to appease an unjust 
god, I yearn to teach all young maidens to 
rely on themselves, so as not to be the tools 
of men and the victims of false prophets. 
I would rather have my little daughter know 
her own worth than to bequeath to her all 
the treasures of Lydia, were they mihe. I 
deem my life will not have been in vain if 
I can but place one woman higher than I 
myself can stand. Each one who takes a 
step onward makes the task easier for those 
who come after. I would that the women 
of Greece in days to come may be examples 
to the world in virtue, wisdom, liberty, and 
all that constitutes the mastery of life. 



49 



Letter XX 



You ask me to say which of our sages 
you shall study to know the Greek's best 
thought. Pythagoras of Samos has given 
us much that is good and nothing not worth 
remembering. I often give to my pupils 
one of his maxims to ponder and write 
upon. Many beautiful verses grow for us 
out of one little line of his wisdom. "Cut 
not fire with a sword,' ' is a symbol that 
I gave to my little Cleis the other day, 
and asked her to tell me why we should 
obey it. 

She is very prosaic, and her immediate 
answer was, "Because you cannot do it." 
Yes, I said, that is one reason. Long since 
I found that her fiery temper could not be 
curbed by any severe measures, but only by 
great tenderness. My favorite symbol is 
"The wind blowing adore the sound." 
Anactoria wrote a song a few days ago, in 
which she likened sound to the lines and 
silence to the spaces of the musical staff. 
50 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

Taking her thought in part I wrote a little 
poem. Here it is. 

Sing the silence on my shell, 29 
Notes were heard in lowest hell, 
And on earth in every dell 
Sung by brightest ones who dwell 
Round Zeus's throne on high. 

But silences, how profound, 
Everywhere in space around; 
We shall never know the sound 
That through all the spheres abound 
Until we reach the sky. 

Then with all the heavenly choir 
Music that will never tire, 
Lighted with Promethean fire, 
I shall sing upon my lyre 

And through the spaces fly. 

Sound, I believe, is great only because it 
makes the silence which is greater. ' 'Wipe 
not a seat with a torch," is a maxim that 
practical girls like . B ef ore they understand 
its import they laugh at it, saying, "Would 
any one ever think of doing such a thing, or 
"It would burn the seat if it did not put 
out the torch." After they are told its 
meaning it makes a serious impression. 
5i 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

The torch represents the spirit, the illumi- 
nating power, while the seat is the habita- 
tion of the spirit. So this maxim must 
mean not to use our inspiration, our soul's 
power, for gross or material ends; not to 
sink our higher nature in the care of our 
bodies. I did not intend to write entirely 
of Pythagoras. Thales is very wise, he is 
much older, and his learning is more of a 
material kind. Periander of Corinth has 
the credit of saying many things which 
emanate from Arion, a poet of Lesbos, who 
lives now in Periander' s court. Our own 
Pittacus gives us precepts that are worthy 
of repetition. My brother Larichus is cup- 
bearer now to the king, Alcseus is often 
sent for to sing to his highness, so through 
them I am kept in knowledge of the wise 
sayings of Pittacus. He frequently asserts 
that "love levels all ranks," and this is very 
comforting to me. The Athenian Solon is 
by far the wisest man of this age in Greece ; 
about this every one is agreed, else I should 
hesitate to praise him, fearing my partiality 
might be attributed to vanity, for he has 
said much in praise of poor me, whom he 
52 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

has never seen; and only last year, hearing 
one of my songs at a banquet, he said he 
hoped to live long enough to learn them all 
by heart. After that you surely will not 
miss seeing him when he visits Egypt, as I 
hear he is likely to do soon. 30 



53 



Letter XXI 



Yes, it is true that we have a legend 
which says that the head of Orpheus, after 
he was torn to pieces by those fierce, wicked 
women of Thrace, floated over the sea and 
came to the shores of Lesbos, and there 
was found and hung in a temple and gave 
forth sweet strains which inspired the music 
of our isle. I think that we owe very much 
to Orpheus. His hymns to the gods have 
been a great source of inspiration to me and 
to others. I do not believe that his head 
actually came to these shores, but some of 
his pupils who left Thrace after his persecu- 
tion came here to teach; that perhaps was 
the beginning of any real study of poetry 
among us. It was also the beginning of 
a broader study of religion, and a deeper 
insight into the soul of man. I believe 
Orpheus had direct communication with the 
gods, else how could he be so much wiser 
than his age? 31 .... 



54 



Letter XXII 

Why do we call the Muses daughters of 
Zeus? All our poets do not so name them. 
Hesiod says that they are daughters of Zeus 
and Mnemosyne. 32 It is a very dear thought 
to me that memory is worthy to be classed 
as one of the heavenly brides. It should 
make us careful not to remember anything 
but beautiful visions. I believe that in one 
sense all who strive to bring music into the 
world, and by the aid of memory to pre- 
serve good thoughts and give them to others, 
may be called the daughters of Zeus. 
There seems no reason why the number of 
the Muses should be limited. 33 



55 



Letter XXIII 



Your objection to my following the teach- 
ing of Pythagoras because he is so young 
amuses me. We have a saying that those 
" whom the gods love die young." I 
was somewhat old before I learned any wis- 
dom, but I think that the great souls come 
to earth if not full of wisdom, at least so 
ready to acquire it, that it does not take 
many years to become a sage. Then if we 
believe those Oriental doctrines concerning 
rebirth, which you admit are very fascinat- 
ing, Pythagoras may be ages old in spirit. 
I am not entirely converted to the doctrine 
which leads us to believe that we come again 
and again into bodies, nor do I feel inclined 
to favor the preservation of the house of 
clay after death. For if we never return 
to earth, what matters it; or if we do, we 
come as infants and build new houses for 
ourselves. I do appreciate your sentiment 
about my body and your desire to have me 
believe in embalming, for although I think 
56 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

when life has left it the body is best pre- 
served in the form of ashes, yet it is hard 
with those we love to see the pyre lighted. 
In one sense I do believe in rebirth, but I 
think we do not have to die to experience 
it. I was certainly born again when I be- 
gan to love, and once again when I realized 
that my spirit existed independently of my 
body; that even after my body should be 
burned to ashes, I should have a conscious 
existence. The story of Psyche was the 
touchstone that opened my eyes to an after 
life, while my love for you has made me 
understand that to live always is desirable. 
.... How exquisite and full of sugges- 
tion is the little Horus rising from the lotus- 
flower. I prize it highly and feel deeply 
indebted to the artist who designed it, as 
well as to the dear one who thought me 
worthy to receive such a treasure. Truly 
all art is one — beauty. 



57 



Letter XXIV 



So you think that the worship of Isis was 
an outgrowth of the worship of Io. 34 I am 
surprised to hear you say that any of our 
goddesses were the forerunners of yours. 
Is it not bewildering to think on all that the 
nations of the earth have known, and sad to 
realize all that has been forgotten? Though 
as in our own lives it is well to forget much, 
so probably it is all for the best that so large 
a part of the history of nations is buried. 
If the priests have no records to prove 
which goddess reigned first in the hearts of 
men, Io or Isis, then there is one point less 
for jealousy and contention. Sooner or 
later we learn that the gods in all kindness 
have hidden the future from us, and is it 
not as easy to see that they have some pur- 
pose in burying the past? If it were in- 
tended we should know the past and future, 
we would be made with three heads instead 
of one. I sometimes wish I had three 
hearts. 

58 



Letter XXV 



.... Love is such a very tender flower 
I wonder would it bear transplanting. Here 
in our myrtle grove or under the olive-trees 
I can sit and dream of you all day, I can 
hear you as you spoke, I can see you as you 
sat, I can all but clasp your hand in memory, 
and where'er you are, my soul can touch 
your soul, for my love flows ever towards 
you. But were I to go to a strange land, 
leaving my home to dwell among a strange 
people, would my love last? Would your 
love last? If I were different there than 
here, would you not regret? The blessed 
Aphrodite will guide me in this, for she 
would not have our love grow less 



59 



Letter XXVI 



It is raining to-day, and I must sit within 
doors, and though usually when it rains the 
heavens seem nearer to me, now they seem 
shut out by the clouds which reach the earth 
on all sides. I have been reading some of 
your old letters for a little light. I came 
upon some lines which comfort me, in that 
you seem to be enveloped in clouds, the 
darkness of which makes mine by contrast 
seem bright. You ask why this great 
chasm between us? I call it the valley of 
necessity. You living in such a flat country 
cannot gain the same lessons from nature 
that I can. The higher the mountain 
peaks the deeper the valley, the nearer 
any of the mountain peaks the darker the 
valley. You and I are at present climb- 
ing different peaks, the higher we go the 
farther we seem apart, for the deeper 
and darker the valley grows, but when 
we reach the top we shall look out at 
the same view. Looking toward each other, 
60 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

we shall see all that lies between. Only 
looking at this view from opposite direc- 
tions, what is on your right will be on my 
left. If we were both on the same peak 
looking the same way, we should only know 
one side of life, the other side would always 
be dark; as we are on mountains far apart, 
yet desiring to be near, we shall tell each 
other what we see, and then each one will 
have both views. So I think this deep, 
dark valley is between us that you and I 
may have a larger view of life; the great 
Cloud Compeller will in the end unite our 
souls as he did those of Cupid and Psyche 35 
if we but struggle on and persevere in what 
is right. Think not that I do not yearn 
every day to be nearer to you. I cry out 
often in my weakness that all is dark away 
from you, but while necessity lies between 
us, we must climb alone. My spirit soars 
in quest of that height where I shall forever 
see you. 



61 



Letter XXVII 



Sweeter by far than harp, more golden 
than gold, are the loving thoughts I send 
over the sea. Some days I know not which 
path to pursue; I find my mind at variance; 
he of the night, dark-eyed Sleep, has of late 
deserted me, so that I listen all night to that 
angel of the spring, the mellow-throated 
nightingale, and think perhaps the life of a 
bird the most blessed. Tell me, Oh Philo- 
mela and Prochne, 36 are ye more happy so? 



62 



Letter XXVIII 



For the first time I read your letters with- 
out pleasure, nay with positive pain. An 
iron hand seems to seize my heart and 
clutch it tightly. So for three days I have 
scarcely taken breath. I am so sad I know 
not what to say, that needs must be you go 
so far away. I see you quite calmly facing 
danger; just for once I wish you were not 
great and brave. I wish I might hide you 
when the army goes, for it freezes my blood 
to think of battles. Surely Egypt is large 
enough and powerful enough; Oh, why 
should she sacrifice so many lives just to 
gain a little land? Yet all my moaning is 
of no avail! You will go, duty calls, you 
say, and love must wait. Oh, cruel, cruel 
duty, that points the way to war. 37 .... 
The sea makes no sound to-day. Its 
anger has passed away, and I in silence 
have lain for much time in the deep grass 
with my face pressed to earth. When I am 
all sad I care not to see the sky, nor sea, 
63 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

but only to keep close to dear Mother Earth, 
and she gives me strength to endure. So 
many throbbing thoughts have I poured 
into the lap of Rhea to-day, you should 
have felt the earth tremble where you stand. 



6 4 



Letter XXIX 



Last night as I lay on my couch a great, 
deep loneliness came over me. I arose and 
went to the window and gazed into the 
silent night. A nightingale in the garden 
was singing such a weird, pensive song, I 
could not stand that single note of pain, so 
I hurriedly took my lyre and sought to 
drown the bird's note. When suddenly at 
the sound of my sad strain his became 
gladsome, as if he rejoiced to find a com- 
panion in grief. This is what I sang. 

A gentle bird has lost its mate, 
It lieth at the garden gate, 

'Tis fate, sad fate 
That everything is born to die. 
Had it done aught to suffer so? 
It calleth in a voice so low, 

Ah woe, ah woe, 
Why on the ground does my love lie? 

Oh Aphrodite, goddess bright, 
Bring help to me this very night 

So sad my plight 
That with the bird my heart doth cry 

Ah woe, ah woe. 

65 



Letter XXX 



Charaxus will bring back his bride this 
trip, and we are full of preparations for 
their home-coming. 

I have just finished a song for the brides- 
maids, which, with Terpsichore's aid, they 
will sing during the wedding festivities. 

From the land of the sun 

To the isles of the sea 
We come, we come 

To dance on the lea. 
To the fairest of brides 

Rare offering we bear; 
We come, we come 

Your bounties to share. 

It is love that we bring, 

And love we would take; 
Here, as at home, 

Love garlands we make. 
Would you join in the dance 

Of our mystical band? 
Then share in our love, 

Though not of our land. 



66 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

With us would you live, 

Or come to our land? 
It is love that we give, 

And love we demand. 
We'd oft come to you 

With roses in hand, 
If only you knew 

The charms of our land. 

We come to a few, 

And over them shed 
Such heavenly dew 

By love they are led. 
It is love that we bring, 

And love that we take ; 
Here as at home, 

Love garlands we make. 

I try to sympathize with Charaxus, but 
my heart is so heavy, oh, so heavy, when 
I think that many months will pass without 
a word from you, nor can I send you any 
message, save by praying to the gods to 
care for you. 



67 



Letter XXXI 



My brother sails at break of day, and al- 
though I have written and written, and 
the light burns low, I cannot bear to say 

the last word I am sending you a 

casket with a secret clasp. It was given 
to me by my father, who bought it of a 
Phoenician merchant. The carvings on it 
are of a very old legend. Take it to 
Syria with you, and when you look at 
the figures of the two lovers, remember 
that we, like them, shall walk together 
in Elysian fields, even if we never walk 
together here. Death loses its terror 
when we know that love is eternal. The 
tree on which these lovers are gazing repre- 
sents the life of love, its roots are in the 
earth, but its branches are in the sky. 
Through love we touch the infinite, we real- 
ize it is ours, and from that moment we are 
never separated. Farewell for a space. 
May the gods be on your side 



68 



Ode to the Tenth Musi 



38 



String my lute to float on high 
Words that are not made to die; 
Let the Muses, one and all, 
Dwelling in Apollo's hall, 
Gather in their arms our thought, 
All that's best, let it be wrought; 
Made by them a chaplet green 
Lovelier far than e'er was seen; 
Whose the head on which to fall, 
Is there one in this bright hall 
Worthy to be crowned by them? 
Then let that one be my theme. 

Father Zeus be praised for aye, 
Hera, too, shall have her day; 
For all who on Olympus dwell, 
Often have I tuned my shell. 
If e'er from truth my lute depart, 
May I be struck by Phoebus' dart. 
Deeds of kings that, on the earth, 
Fill the sons of men with mirth; 
These my harp has ofttimes praised, 
But martial strains it ne'er has raised, 
Let this lay no exception be, 
Now we'll sing the praise of three. 



69 



Lost Letters from Lesbos 

First to Lesbos's king we bring 

Our homage; Then we sing 

Of him who o'er the sea has come 

To bring our fairest daughter home. 

Neco, Prince of Egypt, hail ! 

And if in aught our songs shall fail, 

Remember we on you bestow 

All man should wish for here below. 

Wisdom nor wealth did Paris choose, 

But love, yet he his bride did lose; 

We give you one who for her dower, 

Has wealth and wisdom, love and power. 

Immortal Sappho, maid divine, 
Thou sharest with the heavenly nine 
All honor. Shout through all the town 
That on her head we place a crown. 
Hasten with the chaplet green, 
Greet her one and all as queen; 
The Lesbian, a tenth muse we name, 
And prophesy that her bright fame 
Shall spread o'er all the world. 
This title till the stars do fall, 
Nations yet unborn shall Call 
And glorify her name. 



70 



NOTES 



Notes 



Note I. Naukratis. 

"But on the whole I am inclined to think that 
the establishment of the Greek factories and mer- 
chants at Naukratis may be considered as dating 
in the reign of Psammetichus." 

Grote's His. Greece, Part II, ch. 20. 
Herodotus, Book II, ch. 97, 179. 
Plato, Phaedrus, 274. 

Note 2. Pharaoh Hopras. Grandson of 
Necos, called by Herodotus, Apries. 

Herodotus, Book II, ch. 161. 
"I will give Pharaoh Hopras, King of Egypt, 
into the hands of his enemies and of them that 
seek his life." 

Jer. XLIV, 30. 

Note 3. Europa's casket. 

Moschus, Idyl II. 
"Golden the casket that Europa bore, 
Dazzling the eyes, a wonder of the world; 
Worked by Hephaestus, and to Libya given 
What time she wed the earth-shaking god of sea." 
A full description follows. 

Note 4. Erinna. 
"Few were thy words, Erinna, short thy lay, 
But thy short lay the Muse herself had given. 

73 



Notes 

Thus never shall thy memory decay, 
Nor night obscure thy fame, which lives in 
heaven." 

Antipater in Greek Anthology. 

Note 5. Cleis. Name of Sappho's daughter 
and her mother's name also. 

"I have a child, a lovely one, 
In beauty like the golden sun, 
Or like sweet flowers of earliest bloom, 
And Cleis is her name, for whom 
I, Lydia's treasure, were they mine 
Would glad resign." 

Paraphase of fragment by Merivale. 

Note 6. Psammetichus. 

Grote's His. Greece, Part II, ch. 20. 
Herodotus, Book II, ch. 154. 

Note 7. "The Egyptians call by the name of 
barbarian all such as speak a language different 
from their own." 

Herodotus, Book II, ch. 158. 

Note 8. Alcaeus. A martial poet of Lesbos. 
Horace Odes, Book I, ch. 32. 
"And Sappho, with sweet lyric moan 
Bewailing her ungentle sex, 
And thee, Alcaeus, louder far 
Chanting the tale of woeful wrecks, 
Of woeful exile, woeful war." 

Horace, Book II, ch. 13. 

74 



Notes 

Note 9. Jeremiah. 

"During her lifetime Jeremiah first began to 
prophesy." (628 B. C.) 

Life of Sappho, Wharton, p. 1, 

Note 10. "I do not expect' to touch the sky." 

Fragment 29. 

Note II. "Beautiful-haired Muses." 

Part of Fragment 66. 

These two fragments are from a charming 
little volume, "Songs of Sappho," by James S. 
Easby-Smith. 

Note 12. A Spouse. 

"Then with heaven consorting." 

Elton's Hesiod. Theog., 181. 

Plato, Symposium, 180 D. E. 

Note 13. Apollo. "Lord of the lyre." 

Rep. of Plato, 299 E. 
"Shall we begin then with the acknowledgment 
that education is first given through Apollo and 
the Muses?" 

Laws of Plato, II, 654-672. 
"Yea, from the Muses and the god who sends 
His darts from afar, Apollo, rise on earth 
Minstrels and Men of Song." 

Hesiod, Theog., 130. 

Note 14. "That herdsman with the myriad 
eyes." 

^schylus, Prom. Bound. 

75 



Notes 

"Stretched Argus of the ever-wakeful eyes." 
Moschus's Europa. 

Note 15. "First Chaos was; next ample- 
bosomed earth; .... Love then arose most 
beautiful amongst the deathless deities." 

Hesiod, Theog. 
Note 16. Dodona. 

"This is the most ancient oracle in Greece." 
Herodotus, Book II, ch. 52-57. 
"There was a tradition in the temple of Dodona 
that oaks first gave prophetic utterances." 

Plato, Phaedrus, 275 and 244. 
Plato, Laws V, 738. 
"When thou hadst gone 
To those Molossian plains which sweep around 
Dodona shouldering heaven, whereby the fame 
Of Zeus Thesprotian keepeth oracle, 
And, wonder past belief, where oaks do wave 
Articulate adjuration." 

^Eschylus, Prom. Bound. 
"Than bard so honored beech or lime, 
Or that Thessalian growth 
In which the swarthy ringdove sat 
And mystic sentence spoke." 

Tennyson, "The Talking Oak." 

Note 17. My lyre. 
"And Sappho's love is breathing still; 
She told her secret to the lute, 
And yet its chords with passion thrill." 

Horace, Book IV, 9. 
76 



Notes 

Note 18. Sappho's Hymn to Venus. 

Venus, bright goddess of the skies, 
To whom unnumber'd temples rise, 
Jove's daughter fair, whose wily arts 
Delude fond lovers of their hearts ; 
O ! listen gracious to my prayer, 
And free my mind from anxious care. 

If e'er you heard my ardent vow, 
Propitious goddess, hear me now! 
And oft my ardent vow you've heard, 
By Cupid's friendly aid preferred, 
Oft left the golden courts of Jove 
To listen to my tales of love. 

The radiant car your sparrows drew; 
You gave the word, and swift they flew; 
Through liquid air they wing'd their way, 
I saw their quivering pinions play; 
To my plain roof they bore their queen, 
Of aspect mild and look serene. 

Soon as you came, by your command 
Back flew the wanton feather' d band, 
Then, with a sweet enchanting look, 
Divinely smiling, thus you spoke: 
"Why didst thou call me to thy cell? 
Tell me, my gentle Sappho, tell. 

"What healing medicine shall I find 
To cure thy love-distemper' d mind? 
Say, shall I lend thee all my charms 
To win young Phaon to thy arms ? 

77 
LcfC. 



Notes 

Or does some other swain subdue 
Thy heart? my Sappho, tell me, who? 

"Though now, averse, thy charms he slight, 
He soon shall view thee with delight; 
Though now he scorns thy gifts to take, 
He soon to thee shall offerings make ; 
Though now thy beauties fail to move, 
He soon shall melt with equal love." 

Once more, O Venus, hear my prayer, 
And ease my mind of anxious care ; 
Again vouchsafe to be my guest, 
And calm this tempest in my breast ! 
To thee, bright queen, my vows aspire; 
O grant me all my heart's desire! 
Translated by F. Fawkes, M.A., about 1740. 

Note 19. Hours. 

"Self-moving groaned upon their hinges the 
gates of heaven whereof the Hours are wardens." 

Iliad, V, 749. 

Note 20. Charaxus. 

Herodotus, Book II, ch. 135. 
Wharton's Memoir of Sappho, p. 3. 
Strabo, XVII, p. 1 146. 

Note 21. Rhodopis, the rosy-cheeked; a 
name for Doricha, whom Charaxus married. 

Herodotus, Book II, ch. 136. 

Note 22. Cynthia, one of Diana's names as 
the twin sister of Apollo, who was called Cynthius. 

78 



Notes 



"Of Dian's praises tender maidens tell; 
Of Cynthius's, unshorn god, young striplings 
sing." 

Horace, Book I, 21. 
"Cynthia's shining orb was made 
Heaven to clear, when day did close." 

Ben Jonson. 

Note 23. Phaon. 

The epistle long attributed to Ovid, now 
deemed spurious, is the earliest mention we find 
of the story of Sappho and Phaon. 

Fancy permits me to use the name as an in- 
cognito for Pharaoh-Neco, the supposed Egyp- 
tian lover of Sappho. 

Note 24. Apollo's sheep and cattle. 
"The flocks of the imperial Sun." 
The so-called Homeric Hymn to Apollo. 

Trans. W. W. Call. 
"Astronomy of the Ancients." 

G. C. Lewis, p. 21. 
"Mythology of the Aryan Nations." 

Cox, pp. 274, 467, 444, 538. 

Note 25. Sappho is usually credited with the 
invention of the plectrum. 

"It has generally been supposed that the strings 
of these instruments were always touched by a 
little staff called plectrum." 

Article on Lyra. Smith's Die, Ant. 

79 



Notes 



Note 26. Hymn to Lesbia. 

"Him rival of the gods I place 
Him loftier get, if loftier be, 
Who Lesbia sits before thy face 
Who listens and who looks on thee. 

Thee smiling soft. Yet this delight 
Doth all my sense consign to death 
For when thou dawnest on my sight 
A wretched, flits my laboring breath. 

My tongue is palsied. Subtly hid 
Fire creeps me through from limb to limb, 
My loud ears tingle all unbid, 
Twin clouds of night mine eyes bedim." 
Trans, by Gladstone. 
"Sappho's hymn to Lesbia is preserved 
entire." Wharton's Memoir, pp. 58-63. 

"There is no authority for attributing any part 
of it to Alcaeus." 

See Alma Tadema's School of Lesbos. 

Note 27. 
"Then reached she Cyprus, girt with flowing seas, 
And forth emerged a goddess, beautiful in 
modesty." Hesiod, Theog., p. 258. 

Note 28. (Young girls sacrificed.) 

Euripides — Iphigenia in Aulis. 
Euripides — Iphigenia in Taurus. 
Euripides — Hecuba (Polyxenia). 
Euripides — Heracleidse (Macaria). 
Dante's Paradise, Canto V, 63-73. 
80 



Notes 

Note 29. On my shell. . The invention of 
the lyre is credited to Hermes. It is said that he 
formed it of a tortoise shell. 

" 'Rapt I strike the vocal shell, 

Hark! the trembling chords rebel." 
Anacreon. 

Note 30. "About thirty years later Solon visits 
Egypt in the reign of Amasis." 

Herodotus, Book I, 134. 

"Solon who was the wisest of the seven sages." 

Plato, Timaeus, 21-22. 

Note 31. "Mystical initiations and hymns of 
Orpheus," by Thomas Taylor, preface, pages 
8-11. 

Lucian, In Oratione ad Indoctum. 

Plato, Republic, Book II, 364, 365. 

Plato, Laws, VII, 677 D. 

Plato, Ion, 536 B. 

Note 32. Mnemosyne. 

Hesiod, Theog., 75. 
"Memory that sweet Muse mother." 

^Eschylus, Prom. Bound. 
"Muses the daughters of Memory." 

Plato, Theastetus, 191 D. 

Note 33. 
"Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine 
A tenth is Lesbian Sappho, maid divine." 

Greek Anthology. 
81 



Notes 

Note 34. Isis or Io. Priest records. 

Herodotus, Book II, ch. 41. 
Also note Rawlinson. 
^Eschylus, Prom. Bound. 
Ovid, Met., I, 588, 747. 

Note 35. Cupid and Psyche. 

Apuleus, Met., Lb., IV., V., and VI. 

"Drink, O my daughter, and acquaint thy soul 

With deathless uses, and be glad the while. 

No more shall Cupid leave thy lovely side; 

Thy marriage joy begins for never-ending." 

Met., Lib., VI., Trans, by E. B. B. 

Note 36. Philomela and Procne. 
Daughters of King Pandion of Attica, one was 
metamorphosed into a nightingale, the other, a 
swallow." 

Cox, Mythology of the Aryan Nations. 
Book V, 468, 469. 

Note 37. Necos, son of Psammetichus, de- 
feated Josiah in 609 B. C, was conquered by 
Nebuchadnezzar at Carchemish, 610 B. C. 

Herodotus, Book II, ch. 159, 322. 

2 Kings, XXIII, 29. 

2 Kings, XXIV, 7. 

Chronicles XXXV, 22. 

Jeremiah, XLVI, 2. 

Note 38. Supposedly sung at the betrothal 
of Sappho and Pharaoh-Neco. 

82 



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